Beep Beep goes on my noisy alarm, and at such a point I just want to chuck it the farthest possible and go back to my dreamy slumber, which I do, and press the snooze; twelve minutes later it beeps again, I utter a disgruntled noise and press the snooze again. After some five snoozes, my watch reads some 7.45 AM and to attend 9 o'clock classes I should be up, infact up long back, then I curse myself for snoozing the time, curse the morning for being so cold and curse my bed for being so inviting.
Get up on a morning and that too late, then you start running like a mad person. Brush your teeth quickly, no time to glance on your oil soaked sweat laden face, shower even quicker, get out before the water settles in your body, mop roughly and there you are running around your room, and especially if you are messy like me, then you are running in your not so big room but everything strewn everywhere; books, pen, notes, phone, ipod, glasses, make up, and there goes the missing liner again, so search for it, beneath the bed, in the shelves only to find it sticking out with a wicked grin from your bag, ah! mornings. Dab some powder on your face, look a little presentable, look for your stole to cover the neck, and pack lunch, thank god I did it the night before itself, now that was being clever or just plain lazy!
Then I gather my coat, wear my stockings and my jeans and pocket my purse and go through the bag again, I live quite far from the department and coming back to pick up forgotten items would be a night mare, re-check, scan, done, ahh then the keys? the keys, bike and room keys...oh well in that am really intelligent, I never take the keys out of the key hole; once not very long back I got locked out of my own room, twice in a day, so that is never going to happen again, so I prove to the door that I finally have brians.
Slam, goes my door, click it sounds, and am out for the day.
Run downstairs, gobble some cereals, drink the milk making a throaty noise, gulp gulp, swipe the remains of the milk and then juggle to find the keys to open the door and close it back, be sure not to disturb your house mates since you would not want to be disturbed too. Then find the bike keys, unlock them, walk the bike across the road, cycle, and before five minutes of cycling, am cursing my breath again, ciggarettes, they are bad, bad, puff pant, they are bad, red light says the traffic, thanks for giving me the break. So it takes twenty two minutes to cycle to my department and I go find a seat, lower my back pack and today they tell me, the clock went an hour back, well the time settings!
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"Congratulations," said some Ministers, some friends, some known people and some unknown
"Oh, nice" or just "hmm," said some, who perhaps did not know how to react or did not want to or simply didn't care, " I did not know you were an intellectual said a few," " lucky you ( was that all luck?)," said a bunch and all the hiss and siss and comments were for getting into Oxford. Frankly, to me it did not matter how people reacted or how not, I had to say it for I was looking for funds and all I got was words, 'congratulations' which became cliched within time. Here I was hoping to have inspired more Bhutanese to make the west know of our existence and to ourselves that we too are capable of anything that we want to do, but I often wonder if my doings have been mistaken, scorned at, I do hope someday people will understand.I am paving a path, or maybe just clearing one, I hope you will follow or your kids will....
Since I applied here, I do not deny I was not fascinated by the course I had applied for and of- course the ancient university. It was an ideal dream. Writing letters to the college, filling the numerous forms, juggling between university and college contracts, arranging money, crying, weeping and cursing myself for dreaming, it was all quite a process, and as I lie stretched in my bed, smoking a cigarette, I wonder if it was all worth it.
Then begins the saga of freshers and introductions with a template of questions asking " where from, which country, which department, which college, which road you live on and so on," and all I get when I say "Bhutan," is "where is that," "oh, cool! but am bad at geography," "you have the happiness index there, damn cool," and you meet some who would not care unless you are USA or Canada or Australia or some big sized place on the map, and to those wanting to know where it is I say "Himalayas," and if you don't know that and you got this far, you got to very clever indeed!
Oxford systems are bizzare at times. Everyone is affiliated to a department and also to a college. College for socials and parties and cocktails and other fancy jester like items and department for lectures and seminars and all academic bits. The terms are even more intense, an eight week marathon and before you know it it is over. But the eight weeks are full of readings and lectures and independent motivated studies plus beer, pub crawl, ale and cider. You have a huge platform to go and attend the extra subjects that you like and whatever fits into your schedule. I volunteered for the newspaper and went to cover Dwain Chambers, the British sprinter, and meeting him in person after having 'wikipediad' him was a moment. Seeing his metal tooth gleaming and hearing him talk openly at the Oxford Union (expensive union to join) on drugs and sports was quite interesting.
Cycling, I have a pink dunlop bike ;), they seem to not like the word cycle and hence its a bike. I fell down a couple of times at the traffic, got bruised and embarrassed, managed to get up, smile at the car next to me and cycled again, yes am learning...
It is nice to be here but I do believe it is quite hyped and coming from a close knit community like ours, it is a tremendous change. Changing rooms, finding houses, buying food, eating 'bread, missing ema datsi,' is all a part of life that I have chosen. It is shit expensive to live in the UK, shit shit, it is. From the bus that charges you two pounds to cover few hundred metres to the food in the supermarket to the medicines in the dug store to a pint of beer in the bar, it is all money. Capitalistic views surround sound, and for the moment the favourite word is credit crunch, know it or not know what it means, it is the word to use.
Amidst all these you do meet interesting people too, name the country and you might bump into a citizen. I met someone from Barbados and am living with a house mate from Malta, Mexico and have classmates from Greece and Croatia and Venezuela and other places on earth. Met poets who recite poems while drinking beer and tell me of Blake and Ginsberg, scientists who work on some fancy atoms but nevertheless drink a lot, archeologists, anthropologists, photographers and the list goes on; you meet humans who have been brought up in different cultures and want to meet people from around the world, travel, learn and share. Academia, Oxford is truly one in that sense; there is room for everything and everyone, though this bit is debatable.
I am not trying to sound lucky or plain snobbish, I just want people to know that if they try, even this is accessible, but unfortunately there are no scholarships for Bhutanese and I did try speaking to the authorities but it seems they need funding from the government to give students of that government a chance. Politics, everywhere, it reeks in every corner of the world.
Autumn leaves rustling on the streets, falling overhead, green to yellow and to none, is a gorgeous sight. Panting and puffing, I ride my cycle, it is the cigarette that I should not be smoking, it makes my breath shorter, and I gaze into the pale blue twilight, the architectural marvels of the historic town, a student town, multicultural town, it reverberates of ideas and colours and drunkards and drinkers ...
Good old town Oxford, many a people have come and gone, written and done, been and seen and I will be in the many soon but I shall indulge in you Oxford,till I last in you.Hope someday we have more Bhutanese coming here. Hope to share my experiences when ride back and gently climb the mountains where I belong.
To sum it all up, happiness is desirous to all human beings and you do not need university education for that, no you don't. Just be happy at home, there is nothing like it but if you are adventurous and would like to experience unhappiness, escape from innocence and know the world, then well, try you may and you should.
Dark Grey shadows of the sky,
the clouds seem to silently move,
becoming darker and darker,
till hell will break loose,
and when it does- they will pour,
with a vigour so vigorous,
it will prove its Englishness.
Chilly and cold wind,
leaves rustling and rubbing against the stony floor,
making 'that' sound,
maybe autumn beckons..
Here I am, south of England,
eating sausages and baked beans,
admiring the country side,
sitting on a wooden bench,
Oh meadows so beautiful,
oh gorgeous doe- eyes,
but today you are overshadowed,
with the dark grey clouds,
it's like it brings forth a message,
the message of rain- heavy rain..
Did the English weather drink a lot of beer?
Nature pees....
Random recollections, bop prosody, freely flowing songs. Spontaneity is the name of this blog.
Oxford Town
Posted by
Manju Wakhley
on Saturday, October 25, 2008
/
Comments: (0)
"Congratulations," said some Ministers, some friends, some known people and some unknown
"Oh, nice" or just "hmm," said some, who perhaps did not know how to react or did not want to or simply didn't care, " I did not know you were an intellectual said a few," " lucky you ( was that all luck?)," said a bunch and all the hiss and siss and comments were for getting into Oxford. Frankly, to me it did not matter how people reacted or how not, I had to say it for I was looking for funds and all I got was words, 'congratulations' which became cliched within time. Here I was hoping to have inspired more Bhutanese to make the west know of our existence and to ourselves that we too are capable of anything that we want to do, but I often wonder if my doings have been mistaken, scorned at, I do hope someday people will understand.I am paving a path, or maybe just clearing one, I hope you will follow or your kids will....
Since I applied here, I do not deny I was not fascinated by the course I had applied for and of- course the ancient university. It was an ideal dream. Writing letters to the college, filling the numerous forms, juggling between university and college contracts, arranging money, crying, weeping and cursing myself for dreaming, it was all quite a process, and as I lie stretched in my bed, smoking a cigarette, I wonder if it was all worth it.
Then begins the saga of freshers and introductions with a template of questions asking " where from, which country, which department, which college, which road you live on and so on," and all I get when I say "Bhutan," is "where is that," "oh, cool! but am bad at geography," "you have the happiness index there, damn cool," and you meet some who would not care unless you are USA or Canada or Australia or some big sized place on the map, and to those wanting to know where it is I say "Himalayas," and if you don't know that and you got this far, you got to very clever indeed!
Oxford systems are bizzare at times. Everyone is affiliated to a department and also to a college. College for socials and parties and cocktails and other fancy jester like items and department for lectures and seminars and all academic bits. The terms are even more intense, an eight week marathon and before you know it it is over. But the eight weeks are full of readings and lectures and independent motivated studies plus beer, pub crawl, ale and cider. You have a huge platform to go and attend the extra subjects that you like and whatever fits into your schedule. I volunteered for the newspaper and went to cover Dwain Chambers, the British sprinter, and meeting him in person after having 'wikipediad' him was a moment. Seeing his metal tooth gleaming and hearing him talk openly at the Oxford Union (expensive union to join) on drugs and sports was quite interesting.
Cycling, I have a pink dunlop bike ;), they seem to not like the word cycle and hence its a bike. I fell down a couple of times at the traffic, got bruised and embarrassed, managed to get up, smile at the car next to me and cycled again, yes am learning...
It is nice to be here but I do believe it is quite hyped and coming from a close knit community like ours, it is a tremendous change. Changing rooms, finding houses, buying food, eating 'bread, missing ema datsi,' is all a part of life that I have chosen. It is shit expensive to live in the UK, shit shit, it is. From the bus that charges you two pounds to cover few hundred metres to the food in the supermarket to the medicines in the dug store to a pint of beer in the bar, it is all money. Capitalistic views surround sound, and for the moment the favourite word is credit crunch, know it or not know what it means, it is the word to use.
Amidst all these you do meet interesting people too, name the country and you might bump into a citizen. I met someone from Barbados and am living with a house mate from Malta, Mexico and have classmates from Greece and Croatia and Venezuela and other places on earth. Met poets who recite poems while drinking beer and tell me of Blake and Ginsberg, scientists who work on some fancy atoms but nevertheless drink a lot, archeologists, anthropologists, photographers and the list goes on; you meet humans who have been brought up in different cultures and want to meet people from around the world, travel, learn and share. Academia, Oxford is truly one in that sense; there is room for everything and everyone, though this bit is debatable.
I am not trying to sound lucky or plain snobbish, I just want people to know that if they try, even this is accessible, but unfortunately there are no scholarships for Bhutanese and I did try speaking to the authorities but it seems they need funding from the government to give students of that government a chance. Politics, everywhere, it reeks in every corner of the world.
Autumn leaves rustling on the streets, falling overhead, green to yellow and to none, is a gorgeous sight. Panting and puffing, I ride my cycle, it is the cigarette that I should not be smoking, it makes my breath shorter, and I gaze into the pale blue twilight, the architectural marvels of the historic town, a student town, multicultural town, it reverberates of ideas and colours and drunkards and drinkers ...
Good old town Oxford, many a people have come and gone, written and done, been and seen and I will be in the many soon but I shall indulge in you Oxford,till I last in you.Hope someday we have more Bhutanese coming here. Hope to share my experiences when ride back and gently climb the mountains where I belong.
To sum it all up, happiness is desirous to all human beings and you do not need university education for that, no you don't. Just be happy at home, there is nothing like it but if you are adventurous and would like to experience unhappiness, escape from innocence and know the world, then well, try you may and you should.
Nature Pees
Posted by
Manju Wakhley
on Thursday, October 9, 2008
/
Comments: (0)
Dark Grey shadows of the sky,
the clouds seem to silently move,
becoming darker and darker,
till hell will break loose,
and when it does- they will pour,
with a vigour so vigorous,
it will prove its Englishness.
Chilly and cold wind,
leaves rustling and rubbing against the stony floor,
making 'that' sound,
maybe autumn beckons..
Here I am, south of England,
eating sausages and baked beans,
admiring the country side,
sitting on a wooden bench,
Oh meadows so beautiful,
oh gorgeous doe- eyes,
but today you are overshadowed,
with the dark grey clouds,
it's like it brings forth a message,
the message of rain- heavy rain..
Did the English weather drink a lot of beer?
Nature pees....